


Star Trek: The Case for Kalpora

by kirabobeera



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: And I Dont Care, Here we go, Implied Relationships, Interspecies Relationship(s), Multi, Not Self-Insert, Original Characters - Freeform, Original Story - Freeform, Other, Political Intrigue, and im sorry for them, aos characters dont appear for a while, can't believe that's a tag i need, im not an engineer and i dont claim to be one, non-canon alien species, non-canon planetary systems, not entirely accurate physics-wise, original characters idc, this isn't about them, tw: colonialism and racism, universe inaccuracies will be present
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-04-23 19:19:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19157317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirabobeera/pseuds/kirabobeera
Summary: The appearance of an abandoned ship in dead space set in motion a series of events that will put a disgraced planetary system back into the Federation spotlight. Finding themselves the only crew of this ship, D'Liora Betshava and Brooklyn Shinsato are determined to: gather a crew capable of flying a Miranda-class starship, figure out what happened to the missing crew, salvage the Kalporan treaty, and not die.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey friends, i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it. this takes place (if i have my timeline right,) about four years after the events of Star Trek: Into Darkness. yes, it is rife with original characters, and yes, kirk and the gang do eventually appear, but not for several chapters (sorry.) this is more in line with the idea of the novel series like Star Trek: Prometheus. anyway! i wanted to work through an idea that takes place in the Star Trek AOS universe and it's been pretty fun so far. let's see how this goes :,)

Alarm lights flash crimson in the small cabin and wailing sirens signal imminent distress. Icons flash on the ship’s dashboard, a dozen warning signs illuminated. The wide viewport brightens as the tint fades away, revealing dead space in front of the ship. Strapped into the captain’s chair, D’Liora Betshava struggles to assess every warning that pops up on the console. Her hands fly across the controls, muting some alarms and investigating others.  
  
The door to the cabin opens with a hiss and a clank, signaling the arrival of the ship’s only other crewmember, Brooklyn Shinsato. She slides into the chair next to D’Liora, pulling the safety harness over her shoulders and letting the clasp automatically fasten over her chest. “Good morning, Dee,” she says pleasantly.  
  
“Not sure if I would call this a good morning, Bee.” Though her voice sounds serious, she betrays a slim smile. The scales framing her face shimmer with the strobing lights in the cabin, giving her a severe and red-tinted look, like an angry disco ball. “The first alarm triggered was the proximity alarm, but clearly there isn’t anything here.” She gestures to the starry void in front of them before turning her attention back to the console.  
  
Brooklyn examines the readout from the alarm, eyes zigzagging across the symbols and numbers for any hint as to what’s causing all of the chaos. She frowns. “The computer is suggesting that an inbound vessel is due to drop out of warp.”  
  
“Suggesting?” D’Liora snorts.  
  
“The proximity sensor was activated first, followed by the targeting program and the tailgate alarm.” The latter is a nickname for the program that calculates if their ship is being followed through hyperspace. Brooklyn shrugs and runs her fingers over the touch-screen console to monitor the alarms and ship systems.  
  
D’Liora frowns and turns her attention back to the viewport. The tally of twenty-six days flares bright in her mind: the total number of days that they’ve been stranded at their present coordinates, their only company the endless, starry nothingness ahead of them. Their fuel cells close to depleted and warp core damaged, they had no choice but to remain inert and wait for someone—or something—to find them.  
  
Brooklyn hits D’Liora’s arm to get her attention. “T-minus ten seconds to arrival.” They lean forward in their seats. The stars in front of them remain still, as they always have. Brooklyn sucks in a slight breath and her eyes dance from one distant star to the next, looking for any sign of movement or disturbance. “Five….four….”  
  
Her hands tight on the ship’s steering controls, D’Liora watches with equal intensity. She doesn’t want to count migwins before they’ve spawned, but this could be it: a ship coming to save them. The tension is electric and she bites her lip. Her knuckles stretch white as she grips the controls.  
  
“Three…two…one.”  
  
Nothing happens. The pair look at each other. In front of them, the stars remain in their places and no ship appears. Brooklyn presses her mouth into a thin line and smacks the console, eliciting an electric chirp. “Bastard,” she swears, then offers two more thumps before she sighs. She looks to D’Liora and shrugs. “The calculation is probably off. Lord knows this ship is bad at math.”  
  
They share a laugh as the stars begin to bend and warp. A wave of force slams into their vessel, a ship dropping out of hyperspace just in front of them. D’Liora’s hands fly to the controls as she maneuvers their own smaller ship out of the way. A second wave rocks them in their seats and lights continue to flash red all around them.  
  
“Shields up,” D’Liora orders, swinging around to get better distance from the newly-appeared craft. Her jaw tight, she examines the battle-scarred vessel.  
  
“No can do, captain.” Brooklyn is just as engaged, tapping away frantically at the console. She shakes her head. “We hardly have enough fuel to keep the lights on, let alone activate the shields.” The pair look at each other for a long moment before Brooklyn offers, “Better not get hit.”  
  
“I’ll keep that in mind.”  
  
Behind the broad, damaged ship drop two more vessels that are smaller and sleeker. D’Liora frowns and turns to look at the computer’s systems readout. “Their weapons systems are engaged, but they’re not targeting us.”  
  
“Maybe they’re targeting them.” Brooklyn inclines her head. As though the newcomers heard her, sharp rays of ion beams shoot towards the damaged ship. Sparks fly as the ship remains inert. Lights flash along the perimeter of the discus hull, but the craft does not return fire. “Yikes.” Brooklyn sucks in a sharp breath. She looks to D’Liora. “You know,” she begins, “we _do_ have four more torpedoes in the revolver.”  
  
“Do we have enough power to engage the weapons system?”  
  
Brooklyn tilts her upturned palms to mimic a scale and pulls a face. “Not really, but if we divert auxiliary power to the weapons system and redirect emergency power, too, we may be able to get two shots off.”  
  
D’Liora looks back to the scene in the viewport, the broad underbelly of the ship turned towards them as the far side sustains heavy fire from the two foreign vessels. “How long will it take to do that? And how long will it take to recover power to the engines afterwards?”  
  
Brooklyn counts on her fingers and mutters to herself before holding up one hand with two fingers raised. “Two minutes in total. Not sure how it will all divvy out, but two minutes is our window.” D’Liora nods and Brooklyn leaps into action, swiveling her chair around to engage the control panel behind her.  
  
The ship hums in response as it reallocates power based on Brooklyn’s commands. The flashing lights dim and then halt, the cabin falling dark. Silence envelops them as the alarms are silenced. A deepening pit of dread gapes in D’Liora’s stomach, but her hands stay strong on the controls as she waits for power to return to the pilot system.  
  
“Firing now.” Two torpedoes whistle through space. One strikes the outstretched wing of an attacking probe, the other shooting past and out of reach. An explosion cripples the first attacker, its hull bursting open and spewing fire and metal outwards. The second turns tail and flees, disappearing from sight as it jumps to warp.  
  
The lights in the cabin flicker back to life and the pilot system engages again, the steering now pushing back against D’Liora’s grip. She moves the ship closer to the damaged vessel, eyebrows drawn together. Brooklyn celebrates next to her, pounding her fists on the console and whooping as their ship floats slowly forward.  
  
“What a shot, eh? I was certain the _Bastard_ was going to miss. I haven’t trusted the weapons targeting system since I first laid eyes on the circuits.”  
  
“It did miss,” D’Liora says absentmindedly, eyeing the hull of the battered vessel. “Bee, scan the ship for any signs of life.” Her stomach churns; the ship didn’t return fire or give any indication that it was even operating. It just floats in front of them, a metal behemoth, swallowing the entirety of the viewport with its bulk.  
  
“Hey, so, how big do you think that ship is?” Brooklyn asks as she scrolls through the scanner’s readout.  
  
D’Liora shrugs. “I don’t know, two hundred meters? Maybe more?”  
  
“And what size crew would you estimate is needed to pilot a ship of that size?”  
  
“Tragit, Bee, I don’t know! Five hundred? Maybe six?” She gives her co-pilot an exasperated look.  
  
“Yeah, so, uh, how can a ship that big have a crew of approximately zero?”  
  
The pair look at each other, D’Liora painted with a slack-jawed gaze bewilderment and shock; Brooklyn, a tight-mouthed portrait of concern and disbelief. They look towards the ship looming before them. A two-hundred-meter ship dropped out of hyperspace, attacked by two unidentified craft, and utterly devoid of personnel—human or otherwise. Empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i went back and forth with myself debating whether or not i was going to turn off anonymous commenting. on the one hand i thought "if you have something to say, own it, don't hide," but then the other, and stronger, part thought, "i don't give a F*CK if you don't like this; because i like it, and that's what matters."
> 
> if you liked it, great! we're best friends now. i have a handful of other chapters that will be going up shortly, so keep your eyes out for those
> 
> many many MANY thanks to my amazing beta reader and copyeditor, Hannah, i owe them my life  
> and many thanks to my biggest fan and supporter, Uncrownedking, i love you to pieces


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was going to hold off adding the second chapter to this work until people actually read it but?? why not, it's already been written so i might as well add it, right? so uhhhhh here's goes nothing (part 2)

“It can’t just be empty,” D’Liora insists, scrolling through the readout once, twice, thrice before giving Brooklyn a desperate look. “A ship of that size can’t pilot itself without some sort of guidance.” She thumps back into her seat, hands limp in her lap. “You’ve tried hailing them?”

“Three times, but I can do it again just for fun. I like the sound of static.” Though she’s attempting to be cheerful, there’s a grim look behind her eyes, and D’Liora shakes her head. “What do we do now, captain?”

D’Liora wraps her hands around the ship’s steering controls and moves the _Bastard_ slowly towards the other vessel. “Honestly, I don’t know.” It’s the truth, the bare bones of it. With no one on board the other ship, there’s no one to tell them how it got there or why it was being attacked. “Were you able to scan those two attackers?”

Brooklyn shakes her head. “That would be a no, captain. Didn’t look like any ships I’ve ever seen before. Certainly weren’t Warbirds, that much’s for certain.” No, it hadn’t been Klingons. D’Liora supposes she should be grateful; Klingons definitely wouldn’t have left them alone after the _Bastard_ attacked one of their ships.

As the _Bastard_ moves around the bulk of the other ship, the broad disc looms into view. Its hull, though damaged, still bears its name and numeric identifier in large, black letters in a shallow arch. “Holy shit,” D’Liora swears, pulling the _Bastard_ to a stop, reading and then re-reading the alphanumeric code and vessel name until the letters don’t make sense anymore.

“That’s—that’s—” Brooklyn points emphatically at the ship, attempting to form some sort of cohesive thought. She continues this motion as she searches for the appropriate words to describe exactly what it is they’re seeing.

D’Liora admits, privately, that she is just as confused. Flummoxed, even. None of it makes sense, but perhaps, in the vast infinity of space, anything is possible. She presses a hand to her mouth, memorizing the hull and the broad, black-stroked letters that spell out

_U.S.S. Adelaide_

_N C C - 2 9 1 6_

“Holy Kalpor, that’s a Federation starship,” she breathes. Her hands shake as she grips the pilot controls to guide the _Bastard_ along the length of the _Adelaide_. Sparks spit and dance from numerous wounds along its broad side, scorch marks coloring like bruises against the metallic gray exterior. Beyond the superficial injuries, the ship appears to be in good repair.

Brooklyn, a device pressed firmly to her ear, splits her gaze between the console and the _Adelaide_. Her brows draw together and she looks sideways at D’Liora, making sharp noises to get her attention. “The ship isn’t broadcasting any signals. No warnings, no distress call, no friendly messages, nothing. It’s silent.”

It makes sense. An eerie silence falls between them once more. Neither is certain what to say or think about the ship in front of them. A Federation ship placed elegantly in their laps is too perfect, too serendipitous, too well-coordinated to be safe. D’Liora draws the ship around the rear of the _Adelaide_ ; a ship of this size is certain to have a hangar towards its rear. Like magic, a rear-facing hangar appears as they broach the tail of the ship.

The massive doors are cracked open wide enough for the _Bastard_ to maneuver inside. D’Liora hesitates. She bites her lips and takes her hands off of the pilot controls. She looks desperately to Brooklyn for support; this is too clearly a trap. “Bee,” she says, voice grave. “What do we do?” Captain or not, she refuses to fling herself and her companion into harm’s way so willingly.

Brooklyn looks at her with none of the concern that D’Liora wears so obviously. She shrugs and smiles. “Well, we have two options.” She holds up her index finger, “One: we back away slowly using what little power we have left and do what we’ve been doing for the past twenty-six days, which is nothing. Or two,” she holds up a second finger, “we go in there and see what’s going on. The scanner says no signs of life and no active weapons systems.” She pulls a heavy blaster from the holster on her hip and gives it a slight wave. “And I have a gun.”

* * *

A sensor registers that a ship has landed in the hangar and the wide bay doors begin to ease shut, creaking loudly. A thud echoes in the hangar, signaling that the chamber has been sealed. Lights around the perimeter of the room flash from red to green, an indicator that it is safe to exit their ship.

D’Liora grimaces as she unbuckles herself from her restraints and stands, eyes still fixed through the viewport on the interior of the hangar. Brooklyn claps her on the shoulder and leaves the pilot’s cabin, walking down the short corridor to the tall port door.

“Dee? Are you coming?” Brooklyn’s voice calls towards her, metallic resonance echoing off of the walls.

“Yeah, just a second.” One last time, her eyes sweep over the console. The readouts and scans remain the same and she frowns. She pats the panel affectionately and sweeps her eyes around the cabin. “Please don’t get into any trouble while we’re gone.” In response, the lights in the cabin dim as the ship enters its power-saving mode and then transitions to its offline state. The _Bastard_ falls silent and an eerie ringing fills D’Liora’s ears. Twenty-six days and there hasn’t been a single second where the hum and buzz of the ship haven’t been present. Chills dance up her spine and she turns sharply out of the cabin.

Brooklyn raises her eyebrows as she approaches, her weapon already drawn and in her hand. “You alright?” D’Liora nods and Brooklyn hits the door button with her fist, the exit parting from the middle to open. A slim staircase unfolds and hits the floor with a clang. Hopping down the steps, Brooklyn peers around the immediate area of the hangar, her gun held muzzle-up. With a wave of her hand, she ushers for D’Liora to follow her, skirting around the edge of the _Bastard_ to get a better look around.

Slowly taking the stairs down, D’Liora pauses at the middle, her hand resting on the grip of her weapon. How long has it been since she last fired the slim Kalporan pistol? Hand unmoving, she descends the last few steps and turns in a pensive circle, eyes rising upwards to look at the arching rafters overhead. Even from the inside, the ship is impressive. Federation markings are painted across both of the two facing walls, demarcating the name and code of the ship just as the hull does.

Her eyes move to the glass viewport of the hangar overlook, hoping that there might be a face in the window. Of course, it’s empty. Just like the rest of the ship. Unnerved, she circles the _Bastard_ until she catches sight of Brooklyn. She gives a sharp whistle and her companion whips her head around. As D’Liora nclines her head to the exit, Brooklyn jogs towards her, gun in hand.

“Is it set to stun?” D’Liora asks, nodding her head towards the bulky Andorian phaser.

Brooklyn turns it over in her hand, lip upturned. “I think so?” She fidgets with a switch and the phaser reads her fingerprint before chirping. “Aha, okay, now it’s set to stun.”

D’Liora rolls her eyes and sets off for the hangar exit, eyes sweeping back and forth across her path. Brooklyn struggles to keep up, taking twice as many steps to match her long strides. Once they reach the door, she pulls out her own weapon and motions for Brooklyn to stand on the other side of the door. Once they’re flanking either side, D’Liora engages the manual override for the door to open. It slides open with a pneumatic hiss and the pair leap through the doorway, guns trained down both ends of the hallway.

“Clear,” Brooklyn reports. They stand shoulder-to-shoulder facing opposite directions. She lowers her weapon slightly and nudges D’Liora. “You’re supposed to say ‘clear’ too.”

“Oh, sorry. Clear.” Still distracted by the profound emptiness of the ship, she can do little else but look around and wonder at the mystery that the _Adelaide_ presents them. D’Liora lowers her weapon too and looks up one end of the hallway and then down the other. She frowns. “Which way do we go?”

Brooklyn shrugs. “I don’t suppose it really matters, does it?” She begins reciting an old Earth rhyme used to help make decisions, alternating from pointing down one hall down the other. “Eenie, meenie, miney, moe—”

“Let’s go to the left.”

“You never let me finish!”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

Brooklyn starts from the beginning again, “Eenie, meenie, miny, moe….” At the conclusion of her rhyme scheme, she points down the left-side corridor. She grins. “Left it is.”

Though D’Liora rolls her eyes, she smiles too.

* * *

They manage to walk through the commissary, the medbay, and the engine room before they find a lift that takes them to the bridge. As they rise through the ship decks, so do their nerves. Each empty room brings more anxiety than the next. As they progress, D’Liora gets quieter and Brooklyn jumpier. A stray elbow had knocked over a datapad, causing Brooklyn to fire off a phaser round along with a sharp shout. After laughing nervously from the excitement, the pair fell into another strained silence.

The lift dings and the pristine doors slide open. For all of the damage done to the exterior of the ship, the interior is largely intact and operational. Her weapon returned to its holster, D’Liora places her hands on her hips as she examines the wide bridge. The dim and cramped pilot’s cabin of the _Bastard_ is nothing compared to the sprawling reach of the _Adelaide_ ’s bridge. Scanners, sensors, and computers line the perimeter and curving ramps lead to a main floor where the captain’s chair sits behind the pilot’s and navigator’s posts.

Brooklyn, awestruck, turns around and around as she takes in the entirety of the bridge. “Dee, this is some shit, isn’t it? Totally state-of-the-art and up-to-date and fancy-schmancy, ya know?” She gives a low whistle and seats herself at the communications post, bringing the screen to life and scrolling through some of the most recent readouts.

“Right,” D’Liora says quietly. She runs a hand over the arm of the captain’s chair, noting the stiffness of the vinyl overlay. A relatively new ship, then. Perhaps no one has noticed that it’s even gone missing yet. She stands in front of the post but doesn’t sit. Folding her arms over her chest, she squints through the massive viewport and watches as the stars become blurry spots in her vision. Where did this ship come from and who were its crew? She turns towards Brooklyn, who is hunched over the communications post. “Can you access internal comm records?”

A sequence of beeps flows from her station. “Yeah, hang on just a second.” Still somewhat unfamiliar with the program, she takes several seconds to queue up a series of talkbacks.

“ _Commander Nouri_.” A heavy accent fills the bridge as the audio plays. “ _Status report_.”

“ _Captain_.” This voice is frantic, out of breath. “ _We’ve pushed it to all she’s got, but I cannot guarantee that it will hold for much longer_.”

Brooklyn and D’Liora exchange looks, asking the same question: What are they talking about?

“ _You’ve got five minutes until we drop out of warp, commander. See to it that we are resolved before then_.”

“ _Yes, captain_.”

The audio stream falls silent and Brooklyn picks another one.

“ _Reconnaissance team is returned to the hangar, captain_.” Another new voice, this one clearly male.

“ _Good, and the relic has been retrieved? _”__

____

____

“ _Yes, captain. On board, contained, and in good condition_.”

“ _Very good. Our course is set for Telos; report to the bridge at once_.” The captain’s voice fades to silence.

Brooklyn sits at the communications post with her hands in her lap. Her features are grim, and she stares blankly at the sensor screen. She turns to look at D’Liora, eyes now betraying that same anxiety. “What,” she swallows thickly, “what do you think happened to them?”

D’Liora shakes her head. “I have no idea. Whatever it was, it got them all. Every last one of them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, i have to thank my beta/editor, Hannah and my number one, Uncrownedking for their constant support and encouragement for this work and all of my other writings. i hope y'all are finding this interesting and not too tedious; i promise interesting things are on the horizon!
> 
> i have no idea how long (in terms of chapters) this work is going to be. i have a few already written out, and i haven't even gotten into the thick of it in my outlines, sooooo....hang on kids, it's gonna be a wild ride !!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! woke up from a nap and figured that i should maybe post the next chapter?? why not, right, it's already been written, so let's just throw it out into the void. uh here is where stuff kind of starts happening, and more stuff will be happening presently...enjoy!!

Further examinations of the ship’s internal systems are inconclusive at best and downright inexplicable at worst. Personnel count dropped from approximately five hundred to zero in a matter of seconds with no reasonable explanation. Outgoing communications were halted two minutes prior to this occurrence, again with little indication as to why.

D’Liora, now seated in the captain’s chair, taps her chin thoughtfully, her blank gaze trained out the viewport window. It’s an entire mystery and then some. No explanation for the immediate and entire reduction in crew, no explanation for the stoppage in communications, and no visible evidence that anyone was ever even on the ship. The commissary, thank Kalpor, is indeed fully stocked with provisions, which she and Brooklyn fully helped themselves to.

“Computer,” Brooklyn says from her assumed post at communications, “what is the current stardate?” The ship’s onboard computer system answers smoothly that the date is 2264.73. Brooklyn nods, counting on her fingers for several moments before nodding again, more strongly this time. “Computer, state the origins and first dated journey of the _Adelaide_.”

_The U.S.S. Adelaide NCC-2916 was built at the San Francisco shipyard on stardate 2262.38._

D’Liora looks over her shoulder at Brooklyn, who spreads her hands in a half-shrug. “Less than two years old? No wonder the ship’s in such good condition.” Clearing her throat, D’Liora summons the computer system again and requests, “Please state the captain and bridge crew of the _Adelaide_.”

_Captain Yuan Ti Xiang, First Officer Commander Eerkurle Min, Pilot Commander Tikkan-Tik…._ The computer lists off the other officers assuming positions on the bridge and D’Liora taps her finger on the armrest for each of their names. Almost a dozen on the bridge alone, not to mention the rest of the crew. Five hundred, gone. It was inexplicable and unbelievable. She stands from the chair and turns to face Brooklyn, who leans over the partition separating the upper and lower levels of the bridge.

“What now, captain?”

A surge of something—fear or pride?—spreads across her chest. She squares her shoulders and holds her hands clasped behind her back. She assumes a severe look and tilts her head up, clearing her throat. “As I assume the position of captain aboard this ship, it is only proper that I have a First Officer to guide me and assist me.” A grin breaks through her serious visage and Brooklyn beams at her. “Brooklyn Shinsato, I raise you to the rank of Commander and humbly ask that you assume the role of my First Officer.”

Climbing over the rails and nearly breaking her ankle in the process, Brooklyn pulls herself up in front of D’Liora and mirrors her stance. She gives a strong salute and nods. “It would be my honor, Captain Betshava, to serve aboard this vessel with you.”

“The honor is all mine, Commander Shinsato.” The pair remain serious for only a few seconds before devolving into fits of laughter, clinging to each other for support. Tears gather in the corners of D’Liora’s eyes and she wipes them away with the back of her hand, her chest still heaving with laughter. Again, the brevity and emptiness of the ship settles on her and she turns to look out the viewport.

Seeing her friend’s sorrowful look, Brooklyn places a hand on D’Liora’s shoulder and gives her a light shake. “Hey, you alright in there?”

D’Liora sighs. “Bee, we can’t just take this ship.” Her eyes sweep over the bridge, from its empty pilot’s seat to its empty engineer’s post. There was once a person, a living being, in each of those places.

“What, we just leave it here? Pretend like we never saw it?”

“No, I didn’t say that.” D’Liora inhales sharply and lets out a prolonged breath. “Five hundred people disappeared”—she snaps her finger—“like that. That’s not something we can just ignore.”

Brooklyn wrinkles her nose. “So, what, we go and find them?”

A beat of silence. D’Liora shrugs, palms open and upwards.

“Dee, you can’t be serious. How are we going to find them? We don’t even know where they went, where they came from, or where they were going!” Exasperated, Brooklyn turns away from her, pacing back and forth in front of the viewport.

D’Liora watches her complete her circuit over and over again. “Bee, I can’t do this without you.” Brooklyn snorts and continues her pacing. “Bee, I _won’t_ do this without you.” At this, her companion pauses, giving her a sideways glance. “If you think we should just leave this mess be, then we’ll go. We’ll see if we can scrounge up any fuel, we’ll get back on the _Bastard_ , and we’ll go.” She chews her lip. It’s not right, she thinks, to leave such a ghostly horror behind. Five hundred people; the figure echoes in her head.

“You can’t just leave this alone, can you?” Brooklyn makes a sweeping gesture at the astute emptiness surrounding them.

“If you don’t think it’s worth it, then we’ll go. We’ve always been a team, Bee, always. Just say the word, and we’ll be out of here. Worth it or not, we’ll go.”

As though struck by sudden inspiration, Brooklyn points a finger at D’Liora. “Unless it is worth it.” The captain arches a single eyebrow in a silent question. “If we find out where they were going, rescue the crew, complete their mission, and return the ship to Starfleet, then they’ll have to owe us, and they’ll owe us big time.”

D’Liora cracks a smile and unfolds her arms from her chest. “What are you thinking, Bee?”

“I’m thinking big.”

“A ship?”

“Bigger. Planet-size big.”

“Kalpora?” she asks, eyes wide.

Brooklyn nods, a wild smile overcoming her face. “Think of it! To become a Federation-recognized planetary system. We could finally get the aid that we need, the funding for our programs, and we’d get a seat in the Federation senate!”

D’Liora considers this; the overhauling of a decades-old secession, done in the blink of an eye. Well, perhaps it would take more time than that, but a short enough span of time that would make it worth it. It couldn’t be that easy, could it?

“We could do it, Dee, we _can_ do it.” Brooklyn’s eyes shine and she turns them to face the viewport and the dark, infinite space ahead. They’re light years away from Kalpora, but it feels as though they’re staring at the familiar night sky of the Kalporan celestial sphere.

“Alright,” D’Liora agrees. “Where do we start?”

 

*   *   *

 

“According to the ship’s navigational computer, there’s a spaceport just a short jump away.” Brooklyn highlights a small sector of the enlarged star-map. “There’s a dock large enough to accommodate the _Adelaide_ , and the port orbits a terrestrial planet called Huxan-4. Records indicate that there’s a surface colony on the eastern side of the planet, something that might resemble a port or a thoroughfare.” The map zooms in to identify the spaceport and then zooms in on the surface of Huxan-4, a pulsing blip tagging the location of the colony.

“If we siphon some of the _Adelaide’s_ fuel for the _Bastard_ , we can drop down planetside and scout out possible crew members. How long will it take us to reach Huxan-4?” The computer runs a brief calculation, blinking a digital number in gentle blips. “An hour and fifteen, hell, it’s right next door.” D’Liora places her hands on her hips, regarding the holoprojection with trepidation. “Alright, let’s get to it, then.”

She and Brooklyn assume positions side by side at the pilot’s and navigator’s station. They need to fill at least these two stations to even get the ship going, and D’Liora prays that the autopilot is still functioning. Though the systems are vastly different than those of the _Bastard_ , they’re at least universal enough that they have the ship alert and humming in a matter of minutes.

“Coordinates for Huxan-4 are set. How’s the warp core?”

“In excellent condition. Ready to jump at your command.” Brooklyn holds her hands hovering over the console, offering her a wide and genuine smile. She nods her head at the thruster. “Punch it.”

D’Liora’s shoulders drop and she shoots her an indignant look. “Punch it?”

“I don’t know, just offering a suggestion. You know, something cool and quippy to send us off.”

“Well, we’ll keep trying.”

Brooklyn taps her chin pensively. “Geronimo?” D’Liora shakes her head. “Onwards and upwards?”

“Definitely not.”

“Zoom zoom?”

“Let’s keep our options open.” D’Liora grins, engaging the hyperdrive. The stars stretch, force pushes her back in her seat, and the _Adelaide_ leaps forward into the blue-white of warp.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm actually really frustrated with how short these chapters are. compared with some other stuff i've been working on where the chs are about 5k each, these are pitifully short. buuuuut they break up the action pretty nicely, and maybe they'll get longer the more i go on with it
> 
> huge thanks for my beta/editor Hannah, for whom i will always be grateful  
> big love to uncrownedking, who still supports me an ocean away
> 
> ch 4 will be up soon and i PROMISE that it when we will meet more people. cheers!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i learned the hard way that you DON'T have to html code your entire chapter?? and here i was, a fool, going through each chapter by hand and adding in the necessary code to make it format right. bleh. anyway!! here is the next installation and wow!! there's finally more characters, what a blessing. enjoy!!

D’Liora wipes the sweat off her brow and sighs, replacing the fuel line in its place along the wall. Looking back at the _Bastard_ , she smiles. A hearty ship, durable for certain. She approaches the vessel and gives it an affirming pat. It’s no _Adelaide_ , but that’s what she loves about it. A nut drops to the ground from somewhere on the ship and she frowns, giving the _Bastard_ a reprimanding kick.

Her comm beeps and she straightens. “Bee, how’s it going?” She fidgets with the device, still unused to its sitting in the shell of her ear. Garbled noises filter through the speaker and she groans, taking the device in her hand and hitting it against her palm several times. Replacing the comm, she asks, “What?”

“ _I said, we’re almost at Huxan-4. ETA five minutes._ ”

“Great, I’m on my way up.” The comm chirps to signal that Brooklyn has cut off the channel, and D’Liora sighs. At least vaguely familiar with the _Adelaide_ ’s layout, she manages to find her way to the turbolift in only three minutes.

The pristine doors open and she steps onto the bridge, smothering a grin as Brooklyn announces, “Captain on the bridge.” Brooklyn swivels around in her seat at the navigator’s post and clasps her hands in her lap. “Two minutes left, Dee. Seems like nothing compared to twenty-six days, huh?”

D’Liora nods sagely as she takes her seat next to Brooklyn. Her hand hovers over the warp thruster, ready to disengage. Looking over the sensors and scanners, she frowns. “No Federation ships at the port?”

“Doesn’t seem so,” Brooklyn answers, reading the readout too. “Is that…bad? Good?”

“I don’t know,” D’Liora admits. She considers both options. If another Federation ship were there, then they would have to explain how they came into possession of a _Miranda_ -class ship, abandoned of all Starfleet crew no less. Without another Federation ship, however, she’s not certain their odds are any better. They can only hope that the conductors of the spaceport are willing to turn a blind eye. For a price.

Silent at her side, Brooklyn prepares the ship for docking. Fortunately, a majority of the automated systems are still intact, and assisted port procedures manage to make that list, thank Kalpor. The _Adelaide_ ’s cumbersome size already poses some concerns for D’Liora, and surely Brooklyn is no less worried. “On your order, Bee.”

D’Liora nods. “Brace for deceleration.” She slides the thruster backwards and the blue-white visage of warp slides away in an instant. The stars resume their normal pinpoint shapes and a looming structure lights up the viewport. Illuminated on all sides by bright flashers and signals, the spaceport is large enough to accomodate a dozen freighters among other smaller vessels.

“We’re being hailed.” Brooklyn’s voice sounds strained. She shoots D’Liora a grim look. Is she concerned for the success of their mission now? Brooklyn opens the channel for audio only and nods to her companion.

“ _Please state your vessel ID and purpose of business_.” The voice is distinctly mechanical in nature, and D’Liora breathes a sigh of relief. An automated procedure bot, not a person. Not receiving a reply, the program repeats, “ _Please state your vessel ID and purpose of business_.”

“NCC-2916 _U.S.S. Adelaide_ here on business.”

“ _Please state your business_.”

Panic flashes across D’Liora’s mind and she scrambles to think of a response. Brooklyn quickly supplies, “Confidential business, I’m afraid. Not at liberty to say.” Bless humans and their knack for improvisation.

The bot considers this for a moment before directing them towards dock fifteen. D’Liora drags her hands over her face and exhales loudly. She can hardly believe that it worked. The ship clicks and shifts slightly, indicating that it’s successfully coupled with the spaceport dock. She purses her lips as she looks to Brooklyn, who drums her fingers on the ship’s console. “What do we do with the ship?”

“Yeah, I was going to ask you about that.” Brooklyn braces both of her hands against the console now and makes popping noises with her mouth. “Do we just…leave the parking brake on?”

D’Liora gives her a look, but she has to admit that Brooklyn has a point. There aren’t exactly a set of keys that they can hold on to, or a fancy lock that they can engage to protect the ship. She sighs and shrugs and lets her shoulders droop. “I suppose we just…leave it while we go down to the surface?” Brooklyn gives her an appalled look. “I know, I know, it’s a terrible idea.”

“Well,” Brooklyn begins, “we could always _imply_ that the ship is well-guarded. You know, let them know that we have a dozen personnel watching over the ship and that there’s a safety protocol system that will prevent anyone from taking it?”

Humans, D’Liora thinks, so creative.

 

*   *   *

 

Brooklyn slides into the co-pilot’s seat of the _Bastard_ with practised ease, her feet slipping under the console to rest on the thick wires and pipes underneath. Seeing D’Liora’s prompting look, she gives her a thumbs-up. “I told the Huxan dockmaster that we have the _Adelaide_ under surveillance. I implied that a lot of guards would have fun chasing him off with phasers if he tried anything funny.”

D’Liora hums as she engages the _Bastard_ ’s systems. She feels immediately more relaxed as the familiar hum of the ship’s engines fills the cabin. Her shoulders relax and she leans back in the pilot’s chair, teasing the thrusters forward. The wide bay doors of the _Adelaide_ inch open and the _Bastard_ creeps towards it, rising off of the ground.

“Gave him the money, too. That should tide him over and hopefully prevent him from asking any more questions.”

“He was asking questions? Like what?”

Brooklyn frowns. “Uh, not entirely sure. My Hux isn’t that good—it’s a strange dialect. I think he was asking what kind of business Starfleet has on Huxan-4. I think I told him that his mother makes good soup.” They share a laugh as the _Bastard_ dips out of the hangar and lists towards the planet, the spaceport and the _Adelaide_ dwindling behind them.

The red-brown surface of Huxan-4 grows brighter as they descend through the upper atmosphere. The _Bastard_ groans in protest as it fights against the atmospheric pressure, and D’Liora aims a pointed kick at a thick cable. The sound diminishes and she gives an affirming nod. A ship with a personality, she thinks with a smile.

“Looks like there’s a surficial colony just below. Perhaps there’s somewhere we can find a suitable crew,” Brooklyn says, casting a brief sideways glance at D’Liora before looking back out the narrow viewport. “Not that we’re going to be able to find five hundred people to crew the _Adelaide_ , no way. What are essential positions that we need filled? We’ll work with those first, yeah?”

D’Liora nods and leans back in her seat, folding her arms over her chest. She holds up a hand and begins to list off the necessary bridge crew and vital personnel. “Engineer, medic, communications officer, navigator, pilot, and science officer.” She purses her lip and turns to Brooklyn. “Anyone else?”

“Bodyguard?” she offers. At D’Liora’s scrunched expression, she shrugs. “I mean, we don’t have anyone to protect the ship while we’re not on it. Hell, we don’t have anyone to protect us, and yes, I know,”—Brooklyn holds up a hand to D’Liora’s open mouth—“we can protect ourselves, but it might not hurt to have a little extra help.”

D’Liora relents; it’s good advice. She sighs. “We’ll have to take on additional roles and responsibilities if we’re going to have a bare-bones crew.” She pauses and holds up two hands with six fingers raised. “I can pilot the ship”—she puts down a finger—“and you are a very capable communications officer.” She lowers another. “That leaves five crew members that we need to find.”

“How hard could it be?” Brooklyn guides the _Bastard_ towards a landing field just outside of the colony town on the red-baked surface of Huxan-4. The wings fold upwards and the pair descend the steps to the surface, scanning their surroundings with pinched faces. The two yellow suns are bright in the orange sky, a shimmering heat rising from the ground. Brooklyn points towards a smattering of buildings just beyond the landing pads. “That way.”

The pair start off towards the colony, red dust kicking up around their ankles as they walk. They pass a number of beings as they walk, human and non-human alike. A pair of Klingons eye them as they pass, and D’Liora grips the back of Brooklyn’s elbow tight, keeping her head down. A pale Bolian waves at them from her makeshift stall beside her ship, motioning towards several of her Bolian companions playing an assortment of strange instruments.

At last they reach the end of the landing strip, where they are halted by a Ferengi officer. She holds up her hand to stop them. “Fee, please.” She reaches out her thick hand and looks at them expectantly.

“Pardon?” D’Liora asks, blinking.

“Parking fee,” the Ferengi repeats, noticeably impatient. She shakes her hand for emphasis and D’Liora rolls her eyes. She places five gold credits in the Ferengi’s hand and attempts to pass her, but the shorter woman blocks her. “Ten.”

“Ten credits?” Brooklyn sputters, looking from the shorter Ferengi to D’Liora’s towering height. “That’s absurd, you’ve got to be kidding me. Seven,” she insists. Bartering with a Ferengi, though difficult, often elicits better results that outright violence. She makes a point to keep her arms folded and conspicuously away from her blaster.

“Eight.” The Ferengi woman holds her hand out indignantly, awaiting the additional three credits.

D’Liora considers this for a moment, flashing Brooklyn a secretive glance before saying, “Ten credits if you tell us where the nearest common house is, twelve if you can point us in the direction of a qualified engineer.”

Clearly intrigued by this new proposition, the Ferengi curls her hand closed around the five credits she currently holds. Thrusting her hand forward, she nods. “Just ahead on the right, Yura Kan Bora. Run by a relative of mine. You’ll be able to find someone there.” Her fingers curl slightly, and D’Liora turns over the additional seven credits, then swiftly sidesteps the Ferengi.

Brooklyn jogs to catch up with her, breath coming out in short huffs. “What the hell, Dee? Twelve credits for that? We could have found someone on our own.”

“It’ll be faster with her information. She said that a relative of hers runs the establishment. If we show that we’re willing to pay for information, then they’re more likely to help us. Ferengi are notorious for being money-grabbing goblins. Not to play into stereotypes but…yeah.” She grimaces, her fingers brushing over the remaining credits that she took with them from the _Bastard_ ’s hold.

A sun-washed sign above a two-story bungalow indicates that this is Yura Kan Bora. A clamorous noise spills from the cracked windows and open doorway, the sound of a dozen different languages and music filling the interior of the building. Exchanging a look, the pair step over the threshold, suddenly squashed between the amassed tables and bodies that fill the space. A high bar looms at the back of the establishment, a pair of Ferengi walking the length of the counter  to serve their customers. D’Liora inclines her head towards the Ferengi and they weave through the thick pack of people to reach the stone-and-clay counter.

“Snail juice, miss?” The first Ferengi offers, offering D’Liora a sharp-toothed smile as she leans an elbow on the counter.

“Saurian brandy, thanks.” She does her best not to grimace at the notion of consuming the Ferengi’s signature slosh. “And uh, same for my friend here.” Two glasses are poured and she takes one for herself and hands the second to Brooklyn. They clink glasses and drink. “Good stuff, sir.”

“Call me Mib.” The Ferengi  smiles and shows off more of his sharp teeth. “Only the best, you know. We’ve even got some Romulan ale, if you’re daring.” He winks.

“Ah, no, not today, Mib, thank you.” D’Liora gives him a thin smile and looks towards Brooklyn. She’s already downed the entire glass and is scanning the crowd with focused intensity. She sighs and turns back to Mib, swirling the liquid in her glass. “Your relative said that you might be able to point me in the direction of an engineer.”

He splays his hands in an open gesture and shrugs. “I might. Plenty of folks come through here, some engineers, some mercenaries—depends on what you’re looking for. And how much you’re willing to pay for one.” His eyes glitter and D’Liora frowns. Mib jerks his head towards a dark corner of the bar where several Bolians sit with their heads clustered close together. “Could use a handful of help, perhaps?”

“Just looking for an engineer,” D’Liora repeats, taking a sip of her drink. She scans the rest of the crowd, hoping for some promising figure to stand out. A party of Parkled return her gaze and she quickly looks away; Parkled are notorious for stealing technology rather than fixing it. Definitely not. She folds her arms over the bar and slides her empty glass towards Mib. “Another, if you’d be so kind.” D’Liora stacks ten credits next to the glass for her and Brooklyn’s order, offering a smile to the Ferengi. He graciously takes her glass and the credits, pouring her another fill of brandy.

She scans the crowd for Brooklyn, who has disappeared from the bar. Hopefully, she’s scouting the occupants as well, inquiring about an engineer’s position on a ship. D’Liora only hopes that she doesn’t seen too conspicuous in her inquiries; it would do them no good to get recognized by the wrong people.

As she brings the glass to her lips, a slim figure sidles up to the bar next to her. “I hear you’re looking for an engineer.” His voice is deep, artificially so, as though he’s purposefully speaking in a lower register.

“I am,” she answers simply, betraying nothing. She drinks and replaces the glass on the counter, turning to face this newcomer. Human, she notes, or at least humanoid. D’Liora laces her hands together and leans her elbow on the bar, looking him up and down. “You’re an engineer?” He doesn’t look entirely the part, though perhaps she doesn’t really know what an engineer is supposed to look like.

“Best damn engineer this side of Huxan-4.” He coughs, thumping his chest with his fist to dispel the fit. He pulls a severe look over his face, perhaps in an attempt to appear intimidating. It doesn’t work well. “The name’s Ace, Ace Galaxy, and I’m just the engineer that you’re looking for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i will admit that i've been having too much fun on various star trek forums and fansites looking at the races and planets and stuff and looping them into the narrative. makes it more realistic, right?? though i will continue to create new planets and races because....i can
> 
> again, all my love to Hannah and uncrownedking


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI WOW SORRY i've had this chapter for a few days and just haven't had a moment to upload it (sorry) yay! now things start happening, that's exciting. uhhhh yeah that's all i have to say about that. if you like stars and stuff i'll be posting the first chapter of a star wars fic in the coming days (once i figure out a title for it lol) so keep your eyes out for that. okay—here we go

D’Liora blinks rapidly at the man standing in front of her and has to fight a surge of laughter bubbling in her chest. Instead, she takes a long drink from her glass and doesn’t look at Ace for several moments. She rubs her finger over the rim of her glass and closes her eyes for a moment, exhaling through her nose before turning to him once more.

He still wears a look of dramatic severity, one eye squinted and an eyebrow arched upwards. She looks him up and down—is he standing on his toes? He’s garbed in dusty clothes like most of the tenants of Yura Kan Bora. A thin leather belt wraps around his waist, holstering a slim phaser on the right and a keyring on the left. She raises her eyebrows as she meets his eyes once more, stifling another laugh at his grimace.

“Your name,” she pauses, holding his gaze intently, “is Ace Galaxy.” She says his name slowly, pausing between his first and last name.

Immediately, he deflates, his facçade falling faster than a Yipwen kicked off the edge of a cliff. His head hangs between his shoulders and he groans loudly. “No, it’s not.” He holds his hand out to her, looking sympathetic. “My name’s Stephen Berkowitz.”

“D’Liora Betshava.” She shakes his hand cautiously. Dramatics notwithstanding, he seems genuine enough. She hands him her glass and he thanks her and finishes the drink. “But you  _ are  _ an engineer, yes?”

“Oh yeah, I’m an engineer.” He nods vigorously, clearly propelled by the Saurian brandy. “Been one almost my whole life. I was practically born with a decoupler in my hand.” He laughs and D’Liora raises an eyebrow. He clears his throat and resumes a serious posture. “No, yeah, an engineer, that’s me.” He points two thumbs at himself with another comical smile. Definitely human, D’Liora thinks.

She nods and looks over the bar at the Ferengi, Mib, intently listening to their conversation. She gives him a thin smile and takes Stephen by the arm, steering him away towards an empty space by the wall. “Are you familiar with the operating systems of starships?”

He makes a noise as though her question is ridiculous. “Of course I’m familiar with starships. I’ve worked on, like, a hundred ships in my life. Mr. Starship, that’s what they call me.” One ascetic look from D’Liora and he admits, “Actually, they call me Tribble-Wibble, but that’s not important.”

“Right, well, I need an engineer for a D-class ship. Could you handle that? Crew are incredibly limited, and I need good, skilled people for this job.” D’Liora searches his face for any semblance of doubt. 

He nods again and begins offering a list of his qualifications, listing them off on his fingers. Once he reaches ten, he looks at a bit of a loss but shrugs it off. “There’s no need to worry, Miss Betshava, you can count on me.”

“Good. And it’s captain.”

“What?”

“Captain Betshava.”

“Oh!” He looks immediately apologetic. “Sorry, I assumed, you know, you were here on behalf of some…captain or other. Gonna have to, ah, reevaluate my prejudices.”

“You do that,” D’Liora smiles. She looks over her shoulder, trying to find Brooklyn amidst the crowd of spacefaring crew and residential beings. She frowns and folds her arms. “Once I find my First Officer, we’ll be all set to go. Do you know of a parts yard where we could acquire supplies?”

“Pppbft, of course I know of a parts yard, here, on this planet, in this colony, here in Ixwan.” He trails on for a short while as D’Liora continues to scout the room for her CO.

She swivels back to him and places a hand over his mouth to silence him. “My CO, she’s about this tall” — D’Liora holds her hand up to her shoulder — “black hair, tan skin, really loud, human. Do you see her anywhere in here?” The panic begins to rise in her chest as Stephen, too, looks for any sign of Brooklyn. A wash of relief spreads over her as he points a finger towards the door. Stephen attempts to speak, but his words are muffled through D’Liora’s hand. “What?” she asks, removing the offending limb.

“She looks like she’s having an argument with someone.”

D’Liora follows Stephen’s pointing finger back towards the door. Sure enough, Brooklyn is gesticulating wildly, a sure sign that she’s frustrated. Swearing under her breath, D’Liora takes Stephen by the arm and pushes them through the thick crowd towards the front of the common house. As they approach, Brooklyn’s voice becomes louder and more emphatic; even closer, it sounds as though she’s apologetic, not angry. “Bee,” D’Liora prompts as she pulls up full-stop behind her CO. “Is everything okay?”

Brooklyn droops in front of her; she’s never looked so happy to see her friend. She gestures carefully towards the figure standing in front of her. “Dee, hi, so glad you could join us.” Her eyes move to Stephen, but she makes no immediate comment. “I’m trying to explain, er, apologize, about a teeny-tiny miscommunication on my part.”

“I’m sure we can work this out in a civilized manner.” D’Liora smiles at the other figure. Her lip twitches as she takes in the full, seven-foot-posture of what appears to be a very ticked off robot. A single, bright optic focuses on D’Liora and her smile falters slightly. “What seems to be the problem?”

The robot points an accusatory digit at Brooklyn, metallic voice declaring, “Your companion has caused me offense.” Brooklyn shrinks at the assertion; already shorter than D’Liora, she is dwarfed by the robot. “As I was minding my own business, your human-person friend attempted to move me out of the way like I was some inanimate  _ thing _ . When I stood, she asked for my designation. The nerve!”

D’Liora and Stephen exchange confused looks. The pair look at Brooklyn who makes a face of, ‘See? I told you it’s just a miscommunication.’ D’Liora cranes her neck up to the robot and attempts an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry,” she laughs in an endeavor to lighten the mood. “My companion and I are not from around here — we are unfamiliar with the typical customs and social expectations of the Huxan system. Could you explain the offense more explicitly?”

“Oh, and now I have to tutor flesh-people on Techaryte courtesy, just my luck.” Though expressionless, the robot’s faceplate appears entirely frustrated. “It is assumptive, person, to believe that anyone that is not organic in nature possesses a designation rather than a name.”

D’Liora raises her eyebrows. “You have a name?”

“Of course I have a name, you simple carbon-being.” Though affronted by their supposed rudeness, this robot clearly took no issue with dealing out offenses of her own. “My name is Susan.”

Stephen looks nothing short of delighted. “Susan,” he repeats. “Your name is Susan.”

“Yes, that is what I said.” The robot swivels her head-piece to him, optic flashing.

“That is amazing. That is the best name for a robot I’ve ever heard. Susan!” He throws his hands in the air, far more ecstatic about the situation than any of the other three. “Susan the robot, oh man, I wish I’d thought of that. So much better than alphanumerics, isn’t it?” He places his hands on his hips and looks back and forth from D’Liora to Brooklyn, still beaming.

D’Liora narrows her eyes at Stephen. She can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he’s trying to resolve the situation with Susan. Either way, it seems to be working, and that’s all they need. She squeezes Brooklyn’s shoulder and looks up at Susan. “Again, our deepest apologies, Susan. If you’d be so kind, we have to be on our way.”

Placated, Susan sidesteps out of the doorway, allowing them to pass. Her domed head turns to follow them as they walk out. As the three of them troop past her, she folds her arms over her chassis, gears and motors whirring.

Stephen turns to walk backwards, cupping his hands over his mouth to shout, “Thanks, Susan! We’ll see you later, we’ve got some important stuff to do!” Brooklyn spins him around and shushes him loudly.

This, however, interests Susan and she begins to cross the distance between them, long strides punctuated by clicking as she approaches. “Where are you going?” she asks.

Stephen turns around again. “The parts yard!”

“Shut  _ up _ ,” Brooklyn orders, spinning him frontwards once more.

Susan, closing the distance, calls out to them again, “What do you need at the parts yard?”

Stephen twists out of Brooklyn’s grip and walks backwards again, calling out, “Some really cool, super secret things. Spaceships and stuff.” Brooklyn, growling, spins Stephen forward again and he stumbles. “Oh, dizzy now.”

In a few more steps, Susan is walking in stride with their troupe, her hip flexors giving her a wide and tilting gait. “You’re working on a spaceship?” Her optic moves amongst the three of them.

D’Liora, gaze trained on the horizon ahead, says, “Yes, we are.”

“I see. Well, then you’ll be happy to have me as a part of your crew.” 

“I will?” D’Liora asks, smiling with shock.

“Of course. I will be a vital crewmember. You can thank me later.” Susan strides ahead, leaving no room for argument.

Throwing a desperate look at Brooklyn, D’Liora gestures emphatically at Susan’s back. Brooklyn only shrugs and offers her a sympathetic smile.

 

*   *   *

 

Susan guides D’Liora through the parts yard, pointing out various components that they should consider picking up. As Susan talks, D’Liora’s hand strays to the coinpurse tucked away in her jacket. What few credits she has will have to be put to good use.

“Are you even listening to me?” Susan’s voice punctures her thoughts and D’Liora looks up at her with raised eyebrows.   
“Sorry. You mentioned something about a nitrium-plated piece?”

“I did.” Susan picks up a large, chunky piece of metal, the varnish starting to rust. “If the warp-core is damaged, you’ll need a new regulator. The nitrium plating will help protect against the outward radiation from the core.”

D’Liora nods silently and Susan keeps hold of the regulator, stalking off to gather more pieces while D’Liora sweeps her gaze around the dimly-lit shop. Brooklyn and Stephen rummage through a stack of bins on the far end of the yard, holding up various instruments and making jokes with them. Even with Susan declaring herself a part of the crew, four people is still short-handed for a class-D ship.

“Hey!” Brooklyn’s voice chirps beside her and D’Liora jumps, clutching a hand over her heart. She has a pair of thick goggles over her eyes and sports a massive grin. “What do you think?”

“You look like a Q’orthian parath.”

“I look like an owl?” Brooklyn laughs. “Hoo!”

“You do.”

“No,” Brooklyn sighs. “Hoo.”

“Yes, I know, and I said you do. You look like an owl.”

“Dee, owls say ‘who.’”

“I see.” The pair match wide grins and Brooklyn shakes her shoulder. “Looks like our luck is turning, eh? A class-D ship, two new crewmembers? Things are looking up.”

_ Just before they start going down _ , D’Liora thinks. She looks past Brooklyn to Susan bartering with the parts seller, gesturing wildly and motioning towards the few pieces she wants to buy. Stephen is still hunched over a tall bin of discarded parts, elbow-deep in metal and alloy components.

Head-helm shaking, Susan approaches them, arms laden with half a dozen parts. “Alright, we’ve got what we need. Shall we?” Without waiting for an answer, she strides past them out to the dusty street they entered from.

Brooklyn jogs after her, taking twice as many steps as Susan to keep up with her. Stephen weaves through the aisles and hops past D’Liora, giving her two thumbs up before following both Susan and Brooklyn.

Stepping out onto the street is blinding, the sun beating down hard on the cracked terra. D’Liora shields her eyes and spots her companions only a few paces ahead. Just as she falls into step beside Brooklyn, a sharp voice shouts, “Thieves!”

They all turn to look towards the source. A squat, pinch-faced man points an accusatory finger down the street at them. D’Liora flashes a stern look towards Susan. She opens her mouth but Susan quickly interjects, “Yes, I paid for all of these parts. Whatever the problem is, I didn’t do it.”

“Stop them!” The man shouts again. More eyes turn to them. The prospect of apprehending them must garner some reward, because several people begin to step slowly towards them.

D’Liora grasps Brooklyn’s arm and hisses, “Run.”

“Dee—”

“Run!”

The four take off at break-neck speed, Susan easily outpacing them with her massive strides. Stephen pants and huffs as he struggles to keep his footing. Phaser beams and blaster bolts follow after them, whipping up more dust and dirt into the air.

Brooklyn’s hand is immediately on her blaster, breaking her sprint’s pace to return fire. Though also armed, D’Liora keeps her focus on the long run to the landing pad. The bulk of the  _ Bastard _ begins to rise before them and D’Liora has never felt so relieved to see it.

More shouts clamor behind them as they run. Stephen stumbles and D’Liora roughly grabs the back of his shirt and hauls him to his feet. She keeps a hand fisted in his shirt the rest of the way to the ship. They blow past the Ferengi guard, who yells something obscene after them. D’Liora activates a control on her bracer and the ramp to the  _ Bastard  _ falls to the ground with a clang.

Susan easily clears the gangway in three steps, disappearing into the belly of the ship. Brooklyn dives after her, appearing every so often to shoot at their pursuers. D’Liora pushes Stephen up the ramp and slams the button for the ramp to raise. Stephen collapses against the wall, chest heaving. D’Liora steps over him and makes a dash for the cockpit, Brooklyn close behind her.

As they approach the cockpit, the  _ Bastard _ lurches skyward. Bracing herself against the wall, D’Liora grits her teeth and exchanges a daggered look with Brooklyn. The door to the cockpit hisses open and Susan ducks under the frame to stand hunched in the hallway. “I’ve set a course for a local star system. That should keep trouble at bay for a while.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” D’Liora stutters, sliding past Susan into the cockpit. Fingers dancing over the controls, she belays the command that Susan had keyed in and sets the  _ Bastard _ for the spaceport. “This isn’t the ship that we’ll be taking.”

Susan’s optic stares at her. 

Murmuring an apology, Brooklyn wiggles past Susan to climb into the co-pilot’s chair. “We have another ship.”

The  _ Bastard _ clears Huxan-4’s atmosphere and the dark of space falls around them. D’Liora maneuvers the ship through the short space between planet and port, banking portwards to find dock fifteen. The illuminated banks of the port loom into view and a flash of goosebumps rises over her skin as she spots the discus hull of the  _ Adelaide _ . “There she is,” D’Liora breathes, bringing the  _ Bastard _ around to the landing bay.

Settling the ship down with a thunk, D’Liora climbs out of the pilot’s chair and brushes past Susan, who is rooted to the spot. She finds Stephen where she left him, braced against the wall by the rear loading ramp. “Come on, we’re on the ship.”

Stephen raises his head, looking a sickly combination of frightened and nauseated.

“You look awful.”

“I’ve never been in space before.”

The statement hits D’Liora like a Bajoran freighter. “What,” she deadpans. “You said you worked on starships, you said—”

“I’ve worked on ships before, I swear! Just…never in space….”

“Holy mother of Kalpor—!” D’Liora holds a hand to her forehead, turning away from Stephen and nearly running face-first into Susan’s chassis. Grumbling, she pushes past the barrier of Susan and Brooklyn and slams the panel of the portside door. The port refuses to open for a moment and D’Liora kicks the joints until they slide open. She leans against the hull of the  _ Bastard _ , running her hands over her eyes. Her fingers pick at the scales framing her face, an old habit she could never shake.

An engineer who had never left planetside and a stubborn robot. What misfortune has taken hold of them to bring together such a crew? She lets her head tip back and hit against the  _ Bastard _ ’s thick alumisteel hull, running an affectionate hand over the scarred and battered metal. “Oh, I should have been happy with you from the start. You’re too good for the likes of me.” The  _ Bastard _ grunts in response, loosing a pair of screws from somewhere. “Okay, I take it back.”

“Hey.” Brooklyn jumps down from the ship and leans against the hull with her. She folds her arms over her chest and looks sidelong at D’Liora. “So…that happened.” D’Liora grunts a laugh and looks towards her second. “I stand by the statement: things could be worse.”

“That’s inviting trouble.”

Brooklyn throws her arms open. “I welcome it! Trouble is my middle name!”

“You don’t have a middle name.”

“I do now. My name is Brooklyn Trouble Shinsato, and I’m here to kick every ass in the galaxy.”

“You certainly have your work cut out for you.”

“It’s a bucket-list item, I’ll get to it eventually.”

D’Liora throws her a headlong gaze and attempts to keep her face placid. It’s not long before they’re both shaking with laughter, holding on to each other’s shoulders for support. Brooklyn keeps her spirits up no matter what, a beautiful consequence of her being human.

Their elation is cast aside as Susan calls to them from across the bay. The pair quickly make their way towards Susan, who stands in front of a security terminal. A plug extends from her chassis to a port and her digits pull up various screens and readings from the  _ Adelaide _ ’s internal systems. “I thought you might want to see this.” She selects a vidfeed from one of the halls of the ship and a throng of beings appears on the screen. Brooklyn swears. “This may also interest you.” A new vidfeed is queued and plays across the terminal, this one of the same group of ruffians being apprehended by a tall, burly man.

“Plot twist,” Brooklyn murmurs. “Any idea who that is?”

D’Liora shakes her head. “None. Susan, do you know what happened to them?”

“The system indicates that all personnel currently on this ship are in the landing bay and in the brig. We are here in the landing bay, so I assume your trespassers are in the brig.”

“Right.” D’Liora nods at Brooklyn who immediately retrieves her blaster from its holster. “Let’s go pay them a visit, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaa more things! brilliant. love it when things happen. chapter six should be forthcoming in the next week or so?? depends on when i finish writing it and i have no idea when that will be. also reliant on when my amazing, talented, infinite beta hannah takes a peek at it and assures me that it's safe to publish it. thank you, hannah, i owe you my life. also shoutout to my #1 fan uncrownedking who returns home today!!! big love to you!!! 
> 
> stay tuned for more updates in the coming days, surely something will come out of the woodworks—cheers!


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